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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28722894">The Blood of the Covenant is Thicker Than the Water of the Womb</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412'>Llama1412</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Childhood Trauma, Corvo Bianco (The Witcher), Everybody lives at Corvo Bianco like it's 2012, Families of Choice, Found Family, Gen, Past Child Abuse, Pet Names, Post-Canon, Prompt Fill, Temeria (The Witcher)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:27:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,695</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28722894</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Found Family prompt fills, focusing mostly on Iorveth and Roche.<br/>Chapter 1: Geralt invited all of his family to join him in Corvo Bianco, which is great, but has the downside that finding a moment alone is near impossible.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Foltest &amp; Vernon Roche, Iorveth &amp; Vernon Roche</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Embarrassing Pet Names</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt from useless-empty-brain on tumblr!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Geralt had invited all of his friends and family from across the continent to spend the winter in Corvo Bianco with him, he expected that there would be some commotion amongst them. There were so many different people, after all, and each had their own history with Geralt, but also with each other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which was all to say that Geralt was contemplating running away just to get a moment of peace. So of course, two of his loudest guests chose now to appear, bickering and snarling at each other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt sighed. “Iorveth, Roche. Should I even ask what you’re fighting over?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iorveth shrugged, somehow managing to glance at Geralt without ever removing his glare from Roche. “My </span>
  <em>
    <span>esteemed </span>
  </em>
  <span>enemy here seems to think that Toussaint is some sort of utopia. I am attempting to knock some sense into him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roche scoffed. “What my most admirable antagonist fails to mention is that I never said Toussaint didn’t have an ugly history with elves. But even you have to admit that the place is fucking beautiful. Especially out here away from the city.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose. “’Esteemed enemy’? ‘Admirable antagonist’? What the fuck?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ciri made us,” Roche mumbled, and Iorveth cleared his throat. “She said if we didn’t have anything nice to say to each other, then we weren’t allowed to talk.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So... you turned your insults into... pet names?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a pet name!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eh, it kind of is,” Iorveth shrugged. “But it’s certainly forcing us to get creative.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roche groaned. “What my cherished inevitable downfall means is that we had to pull out a fucking thesaurous after like an hour.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s only so many ways to say ‘bloede dh’oine’ in Common,” Iorveth smirked. “But I think I’ve invented some new ones.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s nice,” Geralt said automatically. “Why not take the ‘not talking to each other’ route?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both stared at him blankly. “Why the fuck would we do that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Because you hate each other? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Geralt didn’t say. His arched eyebrow communicated it rather well, though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s hate and then there’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Roche explained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iorveth nodded wisely. “Like, there’s this bastard whoreson,” he waved at Roche and Geralt inhaled sharply, waiting for Roche to deck him. And continued waiting as Iorveth crossed his arms and narrowed his eye at Geralt. “Then there’s fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>Letho, </span>
  </em>
  <span>who you invited. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Again.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt shrugged. “Letho’s a friend, just as much as you are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He killed my king!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He killed my men!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two enemies yelled at the same time, and Geralt was amused to note the similarities in their ticked off expressions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We all have a past,” he said practically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, some people’s pasts are less easily forgotten than others,” Roche grumbled under his breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you can’t say something nice,” Geralt began what had become the motto of this get together in Corvo Bianco.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Both Iorveth and Roche rolled their eye(s) and finished for him, “–don’t say anything at all. I know, I know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do you think we’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>here, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and not hunting down your Kingslayer friend?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Also, Ciri confiscated everyone’s weapons after last night’s food fight.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Speaking of,” Roche looked up to check the position of the sun, “it’s about dinner time, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. “You go ahead. I need a moment.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was something strange about seeing the same concern in Iorveth’s eye that was on Roche’s face. “Are you well, Gwynbleidd?” Iorveth asked, reaching out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt mustered a small smile. “I’m fine. Just need a minute alone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you say so.” Roche’s doubt was audible in his voice. “If you don’t join everyone for dinner in half an hour, we’re sending the tiny terror after you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He means Ciri,” Iorveth clarified.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He knows that! Who else would it be?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The corner of Iorveth’s mouth twitched upwards in a smirk. “Zoltan?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roche’s lips parted to respond, and Geralt hurried to cut him off. “30 minutes. Ciri. Got it.” He nodded in acknowledgement and then pushed past them to continue searching for somewhere in the entire vineyard where he could actually be alone. Maybe the wine cellar?</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Family Heirlooms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Iorveth inherits Temeria</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This started from a cracky idea and somehow turned... angry and angsty lol. Think of it as pre-found family - they'll build on this to become family.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Of all the ways Roche had ever imagined freeing Temeria from Nilfgaard, this had to be the absolute worst possible option. Which was saying something when taking over the entire empire and ruling it himself was on the list. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This had never even occurred to him as an </span>
  <em>
    <span>option, </span>
  </em>
  <span>otherwise he definitely would have put it at the very bottom of the list. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But even as much as he hated it, it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>working. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Temeria was actually being freed – from Nilfgaard at least. Their new masters? Who could say?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No longer dressed in ragged piecemeal armor, the former commander of the Scoia’tael smirked down at Roche and the fine silk of his distinctly elven robes said more about his power here than anything else could. Roche ground his teeth, noting the way the Nilfgaardian nobles scattered about the throne room bowed their heads towards Iorveth. Iorveth was respected here, seen as an equal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why? When Roche himself was seen as lesser than the scum on their boots, </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Iorveth</span>
  </em>
  <span> considered an equal!?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Like, sure, Nilfgaard had equal rights for nonhumans, which was still kind of strange to Roche. But it wasn’t just that Iorveth was an elf – he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>the</span>
  </em>
  <span> elf, the very face of the nonhuman threat that Roche had been tasked to deal with. All of the Northern Kingdoms considered him an outlaw, a terrorist, a fugitive with a higher price on his head than anyone else! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And the fucking Emperor and his nobles considered </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> respectable? But when Roche sold away his soul to try to save Temeria, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> was an embarrassment!? Really?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fingernails digging into his palms, Roche bit back everything he wanted to say and bowed his head to the Emperor and his </span>
  <em>
    <span>elven guest. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Then he turned on his heel and marched away, ignoring the way his body ached, pride bruised and battered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It still seemed impossible, the prospect of a Free Temeria. But Nilfgaard had finally conceded. Not to him, not like they should have. No. Instead, fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>Iorveth</span>
  </em>
  <span> had unearthed a centuries old deed to the land Temeria sat on, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nilfgaard had honored it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roche stomped down the corridors of the Viziman Royal Palace and whatever people saw on his face had nobles and servants alike diving out of his way. Dimly, Roche realized he was trembling with fury and his fingers ached from the tightness of his clenched fists, but he couldn’t seem to release them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His feet were on autopilot, leading him to the Royal Crypt entirely out of habit and with zero input from his brain. Still, his shoulders loosened slightly as the familiar marble carvings came into focus. No one would bother him here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taking a deep breath, Roche let loose a scream of rage. He felt lightheaded by the time he stopped, but he was no longer shaking, no longer so angry that even forming words was an impossibility.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Snarling under his breath, he made his way to Foltest’s tomb. Unlike the family preceding him, Foltest had no carving of his likeness to memorialize him. There simply hadn’t been time to have it made before Nilfgaard had invaded, and afterwards, everyone except Roche seemed to have entirely forgotten about it. Forgotten about him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Swallowing hard, Roche grabbed a candle and lit it, bowing to it as he would have bowed to his king. With an angry huff, he dove into his report, closing his eyes so he could pretend Foltest was really here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t believe the fucking audacity,” he growled, “Emhyr refused to here out </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> request for a Free Temeria. Even when I fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>begged! </span>
  </em>
  <span>And then Iorveth waltzes in easy as anything and with a snap of his fingers, Emhyr just </span>
  <em>
    <span>gave it to him! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>gave</span>
  </em>
  <span> him Temeria!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nilfgaard simply recognizes historic record,” a tight voice from the doorway to the crypt made Roche jump, and he whirled around to see Iorveth leaning against stone walls.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fucking excuse me!?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your kingdom was built on elven ruins,” Iorveth said coldly, “and the Northern Kings refused to recognize any elven claim to the land. Nilfgaard gave governance of the land to the </span>
  <em>
    <span>original</span>
  </em>
  <span> owners.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roche balled his fist up, already picturing it connecting with the smug elf’s face. “And what now?” he grit out. “We get what’s coming to us?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tempting,” Iorveth smirked. “But Nilfgaard wants to avoid any more unrest. Slaughtering dh’oine the way you have us would cause a riot. Innocent people would get hurt.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Since when do bandits care about retribution on civilians? ‘Innocent people would get hurt’, are you kidding me!? You’re usually the one doing the hurting!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iorveth rolled his eyes. “So are you. Besides, things change.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roche scoffed loudly. “What, and change suddenly means holier than thou? You hunt humans without remorse and now all of a sudden it’s ‘innocent people would get hurt’!?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look,” Iorveth sighed, some of the arrogance fading from his tone, “I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> a kingdom. All I want is freedom for my people.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And how are you planning to manage </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> under Nilfgaard?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dh’oine rule was inevitable,” Iorveth said softly. “If it had to be any of you, at least Nilfgaard sees us as people.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roche blinked. “If you think it was inevitable, why do you fight?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What better reason is there to fight? No ruler has ever </span>
  <em>
    <span>given</span>
  </em>
  <span> people rights just because. We have to fight for them!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sneering, Roche crossed his arms. “What, so now you get to be the ruler and hand out those rights?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I told you, I don’t want a kingdom,” Iorveth huffed out an exasperated breath and held his hands up placatingly. “I’m not opposed to someone else doing what needs to be done to run your precious Temeria, but I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> see that freedom and rights are enforced for my people.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frowning as he thought about that, Roche asked in disbelief, “are you offering </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> leadership of Temeria?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iorveth shrugged, faux casual. “It would seem so.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roche narrowed his eyes, “what’s the catch?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You do all the paperwork.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Normally, that would be cause for second thoughts. Roche had watched Foltest rule Temeria for a long, long time. He knew all too well how much paperwork the job involved. Did he really want to sign up for that?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Temeria. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Even if she was being offered by his enemy. At least this enemy was willing to acknowledge him. That’s more than Emhyr had ever done.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fucking Nilfgaard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roche licked his lips, meeting Iorveth’s gaze directly. “I do the paperwork, you integrate your elves and everyone, and Temeria remains free and independent?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iorveth’s mouth twitched, but he nodded easily. “As free as possible, in a continent ruled by Nilfgaard.” He hesitated, looking at Roche, then continued, “it’s my home too, you know. I don’t want to see Temeria ruined any more than you do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tilting his head, Roche considered how their definitions of ‘ruined’ might vary. “Foltest would say that integrating elves is exactly what would cause ruin,” he said quietly, suddenly unable to meet Iorveth’s eye. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And Vernon Roche? What does he say?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roche shook his head wordlessly. It wasn’t his </span>
  <em>
    <span>place</span>
  </em>
  <span> to even have a say. But Foltest was dead and he was still alive and as much as he wanted to enact Foltest’s vision, the world had changed too much. With Nilfgaard as their overseers, who had time to </span>
  <em>
    <span>care</span>
  </em>
  <span> if elves were equal?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He cleared his throat and looked up at Iorveth again. “If you uphold your side of the bargain, I’ll uphold mine,” he promised, as solemn as when he’d sworn his service to Foltest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Agreed,” Iorveth inclined his head. “Should we find somewhere more comfortable to figure out exactly what that means, or do you need to find someone to punch first?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that an offer?” Roche asked. The anger still simmered in his veins, hiding the hurt he felt at the constant dismissal from Emhyr and his nobles. But he no longer felt like screaming, though he certainly wouldn’t say no to a nice fight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iorveth arched an eyebrow. “I was thinking someone who deserved it, but fuck, why not? Bring it.” The elf smirked, curling two fingers in to beckon Roche towards him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe not here.” Roche glanced pointedly at Foltest’s tomb. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iorveth’s mouth twitched in amusement. “It would make for interesting terrain, but perhaps it would be best to avoid collateral damage.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Unless its to Emhyr,” Roche clarified. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> in support of anything that irritated Emhyr.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iorveth stepped aside to let him lead them towards the courtyard where the guards typically trained. “If we can prove that we can keep Temeria’s population from growing restless, the Emperor has said he’s willing to return to his palace in Nilfgaard’s capital.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well fuck, should’ve lead with that. I’d work with fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>Radovid</span>
  </em>
  <span> if it meant getting rid of Emhyr.” His voice was far too earnest, especially considering he’d technically chosen Emhyr over Radovid when planning Radovid’s assassination. Nonetheless, it was the truth. For a Temeria free of Emhyr, Roche would work with </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Overall, Iorveth wasn’t the worst choice he could think of. And given that the elf had come to </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> with this proposal, Iorveth might actually turn out to be his best choice. After all, he and Iorveth knew each other decently well for people that had only actually met a handful of times. They had both researched and spied on each other when they’d been direct enemies, and even though the world had changed so much since then, Roche </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> who Iorveth was. He knew what drove the elf and what ticked him off, and Iorveth knew the same about him. If they could resist the urge to use that knowledge to wind each other up, they might actually be able to work together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Iorveth stepped onto the sparring field opposite him, Roche felt a grin pulling at his lips. If he played his cards right, he might actually be able to carry out the best parts of Foltest’s vision, even if it was in partnership with an elf.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <span>He cracked his knuckles and stood at the ready, waiting for Iorveth to attack. This could be the start of a beautiful relationship. Or it could be the start of an absolute nightmare. Either way, at least Roche could finally </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> something. Even if he failed, it was better than another day spent swallowing his pride and begging Emhyr not to split up Temeria.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Abusive Family of Origin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Staying at Corvo Bianco with all of Geralt's family is great, but sometimes... well. Iorveth hadn't come prepared to face his feelings on his childhood again.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW for discussion and references to abuse</p><p>Also, this is another installment of <a href="https://bard-llama.tumblr.com/post/640245912185274368/found-family-everyone-lives-at-corvo-bianco-like">"Everyone Lives in Corvo Bianco Like It's 2012"</a>, because I said so. So basically, everyone that a post-Blood and Wine Geralt might consider family is somewhere in the background, chilling around the vineyard or something.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Parents suck,” Lambert growled, raising his glass.</p><p> </p><p>Iorveth was not the only one to clink his cup against Lambert’s, and he shared a sympathetic look with Geralt and dozen others, half of whom were witchers and sorceresses. Geralt really did have a big family, didn’t he?</p><p> </p><p>“What brought this on?” Roche asked, one of few who hadn’t saluted with his drink. </p><p> </p><p>“The gardener earlier,” Aiden said, “yelling at his kid in front of everyone like that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah.”</p><p> </p><p>“Brought back memories,” Priscilla grumbled quietly and Dandelion squeezed her hand.</p><p> </p><p>Iorveth grimaced, thinking back on his own memories. True, his parents hadn’t been the type to yell at him in public. Actually, there were times he would’ve begged for them to notice him enough to even bother to get mad. But when he looked at his own past, most of his childhood was just a big blank where his parents should have been.</p><p> </p><p>The clatter of Ciri’s arrival jerked him back to the present, and she looked over all of them with pursed lips. “Well aren’t you a jolly bunch?”</p><p> </p><p>“Join us,” Keira invited. “We’re drinking to shitty childhoods and shittier parents.”</p><p> </p><p>Ciri frowned at them. “You do realize that half the people who raised me are in this room.”</p><p> </p><p>“And they did wonderfully,” Keira waved her hand. “But it’s different. Original families…”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Ciri sighed, and Iorveth abruptly remembered that <em> her </em> biological father had turned out to be fucking Emhyr var Emreis. Not that she’d apparently known him for long as a child, but that itself said quite a bit, didn’t it?</p><p> </p><p>“Well, on that cheery note,” Yennefer’s voice was scathing as she rose to her feet with all the grace of a sorceress for whom gravity was a suggestion, “I think I’ll be leaving.” Her skirts swished as her heels clicked on the tile as she crossed the dining area and headed for the stairs to the guest rooms.</p><p> </p><p>“You know,” Roche’s gravely voice said suddenly, then faltered when the room collectively turned their attention to him. He cleared his throat and started again, “uh, my mother always thought it was important to say it out loud. So, just in case no one has before – it’s not okay. What happened to you. You deserved better.”</p><p> </p><p>Iorveth swallowed hard, looking down at the floor. Roche was so weirdly earnest as he spoke, and it made Iorveth feel… something. Something squirmy and warm and timid and scary.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t as if Roche was talking to <em> him. </em> The others had clearly had it so much worse. Iorveth’s parents had never been <em> abusive, </em>after all. They just… hadn’t been there, always busy with something else, never having time for him or his music.</p><p> </p><p>A quick glance around the room showed that he was far from the only one who couldn’t meet Roche’s gaze. But almost worse was the sympathy on the faces of those few others who hadn’t raised their glasses. Gritting his teeth against words, Iorveth forced himself to breathe. He didn’t want pity and he didn’t deserve their compassion. His childhood hadn’t actually been <em> that </em>bad.</p><p> </p><p>“With the mood successfully killed,” Ves coughed, tapping her mug on the table, “I vote we disperse with absolutely no talking whatsoever.”</p><p> </p><p>Iorveth’s snort was automatic, but in all honesty, she had his vote. He reviled the idea of anyone asking about his childhood, asking how bad it had been and having to <em> explain </em> that it really wasn’t, it was just little things. Little things that added up until all Iorveth could feel when poking the memory of his parents was hurt and resignation.</p><p> </p><p>There was a grumble of agreement from someone and chairs scraped against the floor as several people pushed to their feet. Iorveth followed the crowd, keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact with anyone. </p><p> </p><p>If they were like him, then they would all collectively forget this conversation had ever occurred.</p><p> </p><p>Except Roche followed him as he headed out to Geralt’s gorgeous garden and Iorveth didn’t have the energy to play a game of chase today. He sighed heavily, plopping down on a shaded patch of earth and leaning down to smell the blossoms of the winter cherry plant in front of him. If Roche had any decency, he would keep walking and leave Iorveth alone.</p><p> </p><p>But of course he had no such luck. Roche stopped next to him, knees pressing warm against his back. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m serious, you know,” Roche’s low voice rumbled. “You deserved better.”</p><p> </p><p>Iorveth shrugged, “it’s not like they ever hit me or anything. I wasn’t abused.”</p><p> </p><p>“Neglect <em> is </em>abuse,” Roche said, touching his shoulder lightly. “But what label you put on it doesn’t matter. Their behavior hurt you – that’s what matters. You deserved better.”</p><p> </p><p>The words <em> hurt</em>, piercing his chest like barbs. But it was the good kind of hurt, mostly. The kind of hurt that meant that logically, he knew that Roche was right. The kind of hurt that persisted in believing that he was exempt from any logic. </p><p> </p><p>Iorveth squeezed his eye shut, tearing off his bandana so that he could knot his hands in his hair. “I don’t want to talk about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s okay.” Roche settled his hands over Iorveth’s shoulder and part of him still couldn’t believe that he could find comfort in the man who had once hunted him. But the rest of him craved comfort so badly that he couldn’t help the way he leaned into Roche, even as he tugged on his own hair. The slight pressure grounded him and the buzzing in his ears faded enough to hear Roche’s words. “It’s okay to not know what to do with that. But it’s important to know. You deserved better. You deserved parents who made you feel loved and accepted and supported. And you don’t have to do anything to deserve it. You just… do. Because you’re a person.”</p><p> </p><p>Iorveth swallowed hard, trying to hold back the emotion building behind his eyes. He and Roche may get along well these days, but he wasn’t going to <em> cry </em> in front of his once-enemy. He still had <em> some </em> dignity, dammit.</p><p> </p><p>Roche squeezed his shoulders, and didn’t say anything else, just stood there, quiet and supportive and unyielding, as Iorveth tried not to fall apart.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Abandonment Issues</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Iorveth deals with loss after the death of his lover.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ANGST!! This chapter is basically me dealing with grieving, so it's the aftermath of a Main Character Death</p><p>For mochii-girl. I forgot to post this on AO3 oops, but here you go.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Iorveth knew going in that odds were, he would outlive Roche. He tried not to think about it much, but he’d known it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His lover had always been horrified at the idea of living such a long life and Iorveth was being adamantly reminded that there was a reason for that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iorveth had outlived everyone he’d ever loved. He’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>known</span>
  </em>
  <span> going in that he would do it again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But that didn’t make it hurt any less. Sitting in the bed that used to be theirs, Iorveth tried not to cry at the reminder that he would never get to hold Roche in his arms again. Never get to feel Roche’s wide, blunt fingers scratch at his scalp in that way that made him melt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why did he do this to himself? Why did he sign up for this pain?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Except he knew that he was better for having had Roche in his life. Even from the start, even when they’d been enemies, Roche had always pushed him to bring his best.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But fuck, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt, </span>
  </em>
  <span>hurt so much that he couldn’t imagine ever allowing himself to love again. Logically, he knew that he would. He’d always been terrible at not getting attached to people. </span>
  <span>But right now, the hurt was too fresh and all he could do was wish for warm arms around him as he cried.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><a href="https://bard-llama.tumblr.com/post/640145376543997952/found-family-prompts">Found Family prompt list</a><br/>Have a prompt you want to see? Send it to me!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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